


I Think You Mean That Other Guy

by Nuwandalz



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Implied Relationships, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 05:43:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuwandalz/pseuds/Nuwandalz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony grins because he knows how to laugh at bad jokes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think You Mean That Other Guy

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd. So all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> In case you were needing to know beforehand, the implied relationships are Steve/Howard and Bruce/Tony.

Tony knows he's damaged goods but people are just meat machines anyway and he can upgrade anything that's threatening to bring down the whole system. He's strong enough on his say-so, picks and chooses his own armour but runs headlong into any battle. The moment he starts lagging, running slow, that means he's not good enough - technology has to improve with the times down to the very second and he isn't an exception. 

Then there's Steve. 

Steve looks at him like he's the wrong Stark sometimes and Tony sees the way Steve touches him like an old friend, an inside joke bubbling its way to the surface before he remembers himself. He smiles at Steve like he gets it, like it doesn't hurt each time it happens and turns it into their own private thing like, 'Hey, isn't it funny you're always thinking I'm someone else?'.  
He doesn't know if Steve gets the joke though because he always looks away guiltily so Tony takes another drink and pushes that thought right to the back and figures one day he'll design a sense of humour for the Captain. 

But he admits that there's something undeniably poetic that he's the face of the future and Steve's the blast from the past. They're at opposite ends of a timeline but that still means they're connected, drawn together, opposites attract and all that. Or so he tells himself when he's kissing Steve against the wall, dark shadows making this easier on the both of them. He's grinding their hips together and hearing Steve moan out 'Stark' and he doesn't know which one that's supposed to be directed at and not sure if he cares. The easiest way to fix that problem is keeping Steve incoherent, dropping to his knees and sucking down his cock, not holding back. This is an all guns blazing fight, power at 100%. He doesn't stop until he's gotten at least a few syllables out of Steve that could potentially sound like 'Tony' and nothing like any of the number of ghosts Steve lives with. 

It's only when they're shaking, exhausted, does Steve give him that guilty look again and Tony wants to laugh, all sharp and broken because oh, he'd missed the punch line when he wasn't looking. Guess it wasn't his name after all. 

But teamwork means support and working together and he understands the framework of one gear in a machine so he just grins, kisses the guilty look off Steve's face until he's met with gratitude and it's easier to breathe from there. 

 

Later, when he's outside on the balcony of his tower, bottle of whiskey in hand and the city's lights turning blurry, he startles at another presence he hadn't noticed.   
Bruce smiles, like it's a joke and Tony ends up laughing because Bruce is never hard to find. 

Except he is, for others. Which is the heart of the gag that he didn't miss this time, and Bruce is looking out at the city with his arms folded tightly as if it's the only way to keep himself together. Tony knows what that feels like. He has built a red and gold suit that's better than arms around the middle. 

"Tony," Bruce acknowledges, quiet and calm. 

Maybe if he were honest, he'd admit that he's tired of being mistaken for someone else all the time.

"I can uh, go. If you want," Bruce continues, drawing into himself but offering open palms, because Bruce believes he isn't welcome anywhere and lives to keep an eye on the exit. 

"Stay," Tony says with a shrug. "The balcony is big enough for the four of us."

Bruce frowns, confused, sends Tony a contemplative look and seems to be judging his math skills. Tony points between them both twice as if that explains everything, deciding to add, "Technically two since our alter egos are in the basement." 

There's definitely an eye roll there, exasperated, fond. Bruce goes back to leaning on the railing, shoulders less tense but still on guard. Tony moves in closer, dangling the bottle over the edge, elbow brushing Bruce's. 

"You can't see the damage at night," Bruce reflects, talking about the city, or maybe them, Tony can't tell. 

"Always there in the morning." 

Bruce snorts but smiles too, a hint of it almost as if Bruce thinks it's inappropriate to react that way. Tony grins because he knows how to laugh at bad jokes, thinks he might be able to teach Bruce one day. But for now, it's just the two of them hanging out on the balcony, looking at a ruined city and there's nobody saying one name but meaning another.

Neither of them are saying anything and that works too.


End file.
